


otherwise, engaged regrets

by Lilliburlero



Series: Répondez s'il vous plaît [3]
Category: The Marlows - Antonia Forest
Genre: Comment Fic, F/M, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Plot Sketch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24821782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilliburlero/pseuds/Lilliburlero
Summary: A commentfic plot sketch of what might have happened on the day after 'Regrets, otherwise engaged', written for a meme, and archived here in the interests of completionism.
Relationships: Giles Marlow/Patrick Merrick, Nicola Marlow/Patrick Merrick
Series: Répondez s'il vous plaît [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795378
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	otherwise, engaged regrets

Patrick wakes from a dream too direct to interest an analyst, with a crashing hangover. His first full day as Nicola's boyfriend does not, thus, get off to an entirely auspicious start. It continues to be haunted with examination of conscience on the point of why, exactly, he—after all an introvert of the deepest dye—didn't take the fairly short, head-clearing walk home in the wee hours of the morning and why, moreover (this one hits as he is trying to make himself respectable enough for the breakfast table with cold water and no comb) he was _asked_ not to, and not by Nicola neither.

Peter proves himself heir to Jon's breakfast-table bitchiness and Giles falls naturally into their father's role of slightly awkward defensiveness. Selby— _oh, God, Selby_ , Patrick thinks, and then he thinks _Appalachian mountains_ , and wonders why for a minute. Then it occurs to him with an appalling lurch (thank God it's only toast and cornflakes, not the kedgeree that Nellie would have supplied, damn, must ring home, bed unslept in, he'll be lucky if Nellie hasn't already reported to Hampstead) just what Selby might actually have been saying—asking?—with the comment about those blood-harmonious voices. Well, Patrick thinks sensibly, he has his answer there, and he's relieved that for once it's the one that puts him on the side of the majority. He asks Nicola to do something outdoorsy ending with a cure in the Lord Harry, gulps tea and dashes home to shave and change.

Nicola too is preoccupied. She wonders if she's done the right thing. There have been a number of people of the past few years she's felt drawn to, some of them in a more specifically romantic sense than she feels drawn to Patrick, if she's honest about it. She's kissed one or two of them, but for reasons usually involving school and geography, it hasn't gone anywhere much: it's embarrassing, having to reassemble things from scratch with someone you snogged on the last day of the holidays, didn't see for three months—and honestly, didn't write to as much as you thought you might once games and work got going. Easier just to let it drop. Patrick's the only person she's never felt that need for reassembly with, and the only person with whom she can share her sense of the importance of tradition and her cult of the past without feeling like an ass. That's why she was cautious about picking up the threads of their friendship, because she knew she _could_ , so easily. And he did treat her pretty bloody diabolically over—oh, God, Ginty. She'll be back for Christmas Day. She couldn't possibly mind, could she? Surely—she acknowledges, with a sinking feeling, that Ginty can mind just about anything if she puts her, well, mind to it.

Giles responds to Peter's teasing with quarterdeck organisation: taking note of what everyone's plans are so that they can be relayed to Mrs Marlow on her return from getting the infants sorted out at the farmhouse. His own involve the sort of furious officer-class shopping that results in the expenditure of about three hundred pounds and the acquisition of large multiples of identical objects from a County tailor.

'Oh,' Nicola remarks, 'you'll probably come back around by Compton Marshall, won't you? Patrick and I are probably ending up our ride in the Lord Harry around late-lunchtime-ish. Join us for a pint, if you fancy.' Three would usually be a crowd, she thinks with satisfaction, but in this case it might be a bit of a relief, and anyway, Giles is different. One can't possibly object to Giles.


End file.
